


Up to Something

by erebones



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Durincest, M/M, Multi, Seduction, Threesome, it turned into angst at the end i'm sorry?, kili needs some help confessing his feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:43:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erebones/pseuds/erebones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli tries to catch his brother’s eye – to share a laugh, to communicate, to ask 'is this all right?' – but Kíli is focused on the floor between Ori’s feet. The elder brother licks his lips nervously. He doesn’t like it when Kíli closes him out. “We are up to something,” he admits, and is rewarded: Kíli’s head snaps up, dark eyes narrow and searching on his face. “But we were rather hoping you’d be... agreeable.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up to Something

“It’s the perfect time. Durin knows when we’ll get another chance this good!”

Fíli stares at his little brother as if he's crazy. Which he is. Certifiably. “You call this a _good chance_? Kíli, we’re in the middle of Laketown, surrounded by our companions, with thousands of admirers every time we stick so much as our noses out of the window! What makes you think we’ll be able to get away with it?”

Kíli clasps his brother’s shoulders, looking him in the eye. “Fíli, listen. We’ve been here a week already, going on two. The only reason Uncle has let us delay so long is that we need the goodwill of these people if we wish to continue on!”

“That, and Bilbo still has that awful cold,” Fíli remarks. “Unlike Uncle, really, to cater to that sort of thing. If it were _us_ taken sick we’d be halfway to the Mountain by now.”

Kíli waves an irate hand. “Unimportant. We’re not talking about Bilbo, here. Although…”

At his brother’s speculative expression, Fíli clocks him over the head. “That’s enough! Bilbo’s virginity is no concern of ours.”

“Just Uncle’s,” Kíli sniggers, earning himself another smack. “All right, all right! Fine. You were the one who brought it up.”

“You’re not really convincing me,” Fíli reminds him. He leans back against his bench and takes a deep swig of ale. “What part of ‘help me seduce the dwarf I love because I’m a big fat coward’ is intended to lure me in, exactly?”

Kíli glares, but is dissuaded from having some of his own back as the object of their conversation appears in the inn’s common room. It’s fairly late, and the room is largely empty, aside from a few diehard regulars and Dwalin and Balin still deep in their cups over by the enormous fireplace. Thus, it is easy to keep a covert eye out as Ori timidly wanders between the tables. His heart in his throat, Kíli raises a hand to hail him.

“Ori! Over here, mate.”

Fíli sniggers into his cup, but a swift elbow in the side from his brother quiets him. Ori makes a beeline for their table, looking equal parts relieved and distressed. “Thank goodness you two’re awake,” he says, halting beside their table and fidgeting with his handwarmers. “I’ve got into a bit of a pickle.”

Fíli sucks in a huge breath, and Kíli stomps on his foot under the table, warning him not to laugh. “What sort of pickle?” Fíli wheezes instead, eyes watering.

“Well, I’m roomin’ with Nori, you know, only I went to go to bed an’ he’s got a… a _ladyfriend_ ,” Ori stammers, turning a fetching shade of crimson.

“Well that’s easily fixed!” Kíli declares, perhaps a little manic in his eagerness. He turns an eye on his brother, bristling with suggestion. “If you don’t mind, that is, _brother_.”

Fíli clears his throat. It sounds suspiciously like he’s choking, but Ori doesn’t seem to notice. “Of course not. You can bunk with us, Ori, just for the night.” He reaches out and hooks one finger in Ori’s belt. “C’mon, have a drink before we go. It’s on him.”

Kíli rolls his eyes. “Charming, brother.” He wriggles free of his seat, which is wedged between the wall and the table, brushing Ori with his chest as he passes. He doesn’t think he imagines the slight widening of the other dwarf’s eyes, or the faint deepening of his already ruddy skintone. “What’ll it be?”

“Oh, um, just a pint of mead’ll do me,” says Ori, who had gotten a taste for the honey-based liquor in the house of Beorn.

“Sure thing.” Kíli claps him on the shoulder, fingers pressing just a little longer than necessary, and strides off to the counter, fingers rattling the coins in his purse.

At the table, Fíli masters the urge to dissolve into giggles and leans back on the bench, arm spread lazily over the high back. “Have a seat, mate. Bloody awkward, I bet, walking in on that.” He wrinkles his nose conspiratorially.

“Well I didn’t really walk in,” Ori says, sitting down gingerly. He’s obviously more than aware of Fíli’s arm at his back. What Fíli’s not so sure of is whether or not he minds. “I sort of… heard them, through the door.”

“That’s probably better – no awful images burned into your brain,” Fíli says cheerfully. “I can’t imagine walking in on my own brother going at it with some lucky lass or laddie… well. I suppose that’s not entirely true.”

Ori’s amber eyes widen. “Wh-what do you mean?”

Fíli shrugs expansively, arm coming in a little closer. “Ach, just what I said, I suppose. I think I _could_ imagine it.” He winks, slow and smirkingly suggestive, but before Ori can ask any more questions, Kíli is back, slamming the tankard down on the table.

“Got your drink,” he says, grinning charmingly at Ori. But he can’t hide the nervous tic in his cheek from Fíli. His brother is _jealous_. Well isn't that just delicious.

“Drink up,” Fíli says, hand coming down on Ori’s opposite shoulder so that his arm is all but around the younger dwarf’s shoulders. “I don’t know about you but I’m _exhausted_.” He yawns, only slightly exaggerated, and slumps down on the bench. He is now firmly pressed against Ori, and Kíli’s black eyes glare daggers at him.

“Thank you,” Ori says shyly, sipping the frothy liquid. He makes a little toasting gesture with his tankard in Kíli’s direction. “As you didn’t really volunteer, and all.”

“Fíli volunteers me for things all the time,” Kíli drawls. He, too, slumps lower in his chair – which isn’t much, with the scant room he has between table and wall. “He’s sort of annoying that way.”

“Seeing as you stole that coin off me at darts earlier this evening, I’m sure we’re even,” Fíli sniffs.

“I won fair and square!” Kíli protests. He slings back the last of his beer. “You’re just jealous because you haven’t the aim that I do.”

“It’s all that bow and arrow nonsense,” Fíli tells Ori confidentially, as Kíli continues to glower. He makes sure to speak a little closer to his ear, close enough that the fringe of Ori’s bowl cut tickles his nose. “Just like an elf, with that shaved face of his. Shameful.”

Kíli looks ready to start a tavern brawl when Ori stammers, “I think he’s quite good, actually. With the bow and all.” He takes a quick swig of his mead. “I wanted to take it up myself, but Dori an' Nori said I shouldn’t, since… well.” He gestures vaguely to his beard, the braids neat and gleaming in the low light.

Fíli frowns. “Are they really so traditional?”

“There are ways around that, you know,” Kíli jumps in, eager to help. “Just braid your beard up into your hair, tight and close to your face. It greatly reduces the chance of getting it ripped out every time you shoot.”

Ori cringes slightly, and Fíli has to smother more cackles at his brother’s overzealousness. “Yes, I-I’ll think about it.”

Kíli is getting impatient. The tankard of mead is only half empty, and his big brother is hanging all over the fellow _he_ is trying to impress. He should have known asking Fíli for help in this was a mistake. Desperate times call for desperate measures, he supposes. He extends his legs from their folded-up position, and is rewarded when his boots slide up against Ori’s.

Ever a step or two behind, Ori twitches violently enough to slop mead on his wrist. Casually, as if nothing is at all wrong with his actions, Fíli makes the appropriate noises of concern and picks up his wrist, licking it clean of mead like an enormous maned cat. Ori goes completely still.

Enough is enough. Kíli draws back his foot and kicks hard, making his brother grunt briefly. “You’re looking a bit overweary, brother,” Kíli drawls. “Are you sure you shouldn’t retire a little early?”

“Yes all right,” Fíli snaps. “I can see where I’m not wanted.”

“Oh, here, let’s just all go,” Ori says. “I’ve held you up long enough.” He swallows the rest of his pint down with professional dwarfish ease and stands, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Good idea,” Kíli says, breathless with relief. Together they stand and make their way to the brothers' small room on the second floor.

The room is almost completely dark, as the one window faces an alleyway and the fire they’d lit earlier is no more than glowing ashes. Fíli, perhaps as an apology, bends to coax the coals back to life, and Kíli decides there’s no point in waiting. His belt clinks onto the floor, followed by his boots, and he pulls his tunic and shirt over his head in one swift motion, baring his lithe, muscular body to the firelight.

“There’s only one bed,” Ori observes, sounding both nervous and embarrassed at the same time. Kíli thinks it’s adorable.

“It’s a big bed,” he says, grinning at him. He notices, with no small amount of pride, that Ori’s eyes are drawn to his naked torso several times before he can look away.

“Kíli steals the blankets though,” Fíli warns. He straightens and begins plucking at the ties to his own tunic. “You’ll have to cuddle close if you want to stay warm tonight."

“Shove off,” Kíli mutters, nearly falling over as he struggles out of his leather trousers. The cool air prickles across his skin as he drapes one arm – finally – over Ori’s shoulders. “You don’t mind do you? Sharing?” His voice drops in pitch as he meets Ori’s eyes, slightly wide and framed by the lushest lashes Kíli’s ever seen. He’s never wanted to kiss someone’s eyelids before, but  he does now. There are two dark freckles right on the inside corner of one that he’s tempted to lick.

“I don’t mind,” Ori murmurs. Kíli’s so close he can hear the click of his throat when he swallows. Those lovely eyes dart between the two brothers, and his cheeks begin to pinken. “Are you… you’re not having me on, are you?”

“Now why would you think that?” Fíli demands, sounding wounded. He drapes his tunic over the room’s single chair, leaving his shirt gaping at the throat, and for a moment Kíli is painfully jealous of his older brother. Fíli has their father’s golden good looks and warm olive skin, with fair body hair that shines like precious metals in the low light. Kíli is dark and rough and all Durin in looks. He’s never felt more like a grubby little boy than he does right now, with his beard trimmed short and his whip-thin torso a scrubby sort of ash-brown color in the dimness of the room.

“Because,” Ori sniffs, and leans a little into Kíli’s half-embrace, “you’re always getting up to something, and if you’re not, you’re usually planning for it.”

Fíli tries to catch his brother’s eye – to share a laugh, to communicate, to ask _is this all right?_ – but Kíli is focused on the floor between Ori’s feet. The elder brother licks his lips nervously. He doesn’t like it when Kíli closes him out. “We _are_ up to something,” he admits, and is rewarded: Kíli’s head snaps up, dark eyes narrow and searching on his face. “But we were rather hoping you’d be... agreeable.”

Ori takes a breath, and Kíli slides his hand to the center of his back. “Agreeable to what?”

“I think you know,” Kíli murmurs. His free hand comes up to stroke two fingers through Ori’s beard. “But in case there is still any doubt…” He tips Ori’s head up and leans in to kiss him, soft and warm on the mouth. The touch is like letting go of a heavy burden, and he sighs against Ori’s mustache. Even if he’s rejected, Kíli thinks, it will have been worth it to let the other dwarf know how he feels.

Ori makes a startled sound under his lips, like a rabbit flushed from hiding, and his fingers come up, searching and skittering over Kíli’s chest until they fasten on his bare shoulders. Kíli shivers and releases him. “All right?”

“I… um…” He glances over his shoulder to Fíli, who is still standing by the fire, watching with a fond smile on his face. “Yes…?”

“You don’t sound very certain.” Kíli strokes a stray braid back from Ori’s face. “Perhaps you need more convincing.”

“Yes, I think… that’s a good idea,” Ori whispers.

Kíli doesn’t crow in victory, but it’s a very near thing. Instead he wraps his arm snugly around Ori’s waist and pulls him in for another kiss, deeper and more searching than the last. After a fumbling moment of uncertainty, Ori gives as good as he gets. Kíli is rapidly changing his view of Ori-as-a-virgin to Ori-with-some-experience as the younger dwarf sucks Kíli’s lower lip into his mouth and runs his tongue along the smooth, wet skin just inside.

Beside the fire, now crackling merrily, Fíli rubs his thumb idly over his mouth and watches the proceedings with detached interest. He had agreed in all but words to help Kíli on this little quest of his, but he’s beginning to think he might not be needed. Then, as if thumbing his nose at Fíli’s inner dialogue, Ori gives a gentle cry as his brother bends and works on his throat. Kissing, probably, with a little biting involved. Not that Fíli’s an expert in his brother’s sexual technique. Still, interest roused at last, Fíli opens his shirt the rest of the way and saunters over to press his front of Ori’s back.

“Forgetting someone?” he murmurs wickedly at Ori’s full-body twitch. He can hearing the metal beads in his mustache tinkling against the ones in Ori’s hair as Fíli kisses the large outer curve of his ear.

“Not anymore,” Ori gasps, earning twin chuckles from the two brothers.

Fíli’s hands slide and press, moving around Ori’s front to fiddle with the fastenings of his clothes. The thick-woven belt drops to the floor, and Fíli peels his knitted cardigan and undershirt away from his body. Over Ori’s shoulder, he watches as his brother drops to his knees, kissing his way down Ori’s soft stomach to the front of his trousers.

“Oh – please,” Ori whimpers, the first real words he’s spoken out of lust since the evening began.

Fíli bites at the back of Ori’s neck, tasting clean sweat-salt as he noses aside the gingery hair. “Shall we adjourn to the bed?” he murmurs, speaking more to his brother than to their companion. Kíli nods, red-faced. A fine sheen of perspiration gleams on his forehead as they lead the hapless Ori – stumbling on the trousers still tangled around his boots – to the generous bed.

Kíli is nearly trembling with excitement, but he tries to hide it as he settles against the pillows. His brother kneels at Ori’s feet to undo the laces of his boots, and Kíli swallows. The tableau is shockingly intimate, but he can’t find it in himself to be jealous. His brother has chosen to do this for him, and whatever the reason, he is incredibly grateful to him. He can’t say how long he’s wanted Ori – for a lover, for a partner, for another kinsman (one he can fuck, preferably) – and tonight feels like the culmination of the longest wait of his life.

Fíli’s fingers are patient as they pull Ori’s boots from his feet, followed by his trousers. Under his smallclothes, Kíli can see him straining, leaving a slick shine where the head has leaked through the cotton. His mouth waters as Fíli pulls the material down, letting the plump, flushed cockhead slip free. He doesn’t blame his brother for leaning in and licking – Kíli would have done exactly the same.

Ori cries out as Fíli’s mouth descends on him, and he leans back into Kíli’s arms. Kíli welcomes him gladly, sighing into his hair and wrapping his arms around him. His hands slide up, unable to resist, and spread across Ori’s chest.

“Durin help me,” Ori gasps, and Kíli can’t resist a wicked chuckle.

“Oh but we are, my darling,” he growls, and pinches a nipple between his fingers as Fíli licks up and down Ori’s prick as if it were a sweet.

Just as Ori is beginning to writhe with the throes of orgasm, Fíli pulls off, his mouth red as a cherry and his beard wet with saliva. His eyes twinkle merrily at Kíli. “Your turn, brother.”

He’s been perfectly to content to hold a desperate, squirming Ori in his arms, but at Fíli’s permission, he suddenly becomes aware of the burning in his veins. He pulls Ori tight against his chest and kisses his throat, greedy to taste every inch of flushed, freckled skin that he can reach. Ori whimpers and twists in his grip, seeking his mouth. Kíli is all too happy to comply. He cups Ori’s face in his hands, fingers tangling in the short beard as their bellies press together and their legs tangle. Kíli groans, heartfelt, and licks into Ori’s willing mouth.

“I want,” Ori rasps, coming up for air. Kíli can see Fíli over the other dwarf’s shoulder, kissing his way down Ori’s back.

“What do you want?” Kíli murmurs encouragingly.

Ori squirms, redder than ever in Kíli’s embrace as he bucks against his thigh, leaving a sticky trail on Kíli’s hot skin. “Fuck me,” he bites out, moaning anxiously. “Please!”

At his back, Fíli growls agreement. “Give me your hand, brother.”

Kíli reaches over and his fingers are met with oily slickness. Fíli guides his hand, and so Kíli has the pleasure of letting his brother take care of things, and just watch the emotions play over Ori’s expressive face. He is vocal, too, more vocal than Kíli has ever been. He hisses as Kíli’s hand slips into his cleft, and cries out unashamedly when Fíli breaches his puckered hole with his brother’s fingers. Kíli can only lay there, half out of his mind with desire, and lay soft kisses on Ori’s sweaty brow, tongue darting out occasionally to lick at the fragrant salt.

There are a bit of logistics to work out, but eventually they settle with Kíli spooning Ori from behind, his prick rubbing hot and hard against Ori’s slick backside. Fíli settles on his side before them, stroking himself lazily. He’s clearly here for the show more than anything else. He does, however, deign to stroke Ori’s overheated flesh with his free hand, occasionally smearing kisses in the wake of his fingers.

“Ready?” Kíli breathes, erection pressed against the blood-hot place his fingers have just explored.

Ori nods and reaches back to grip Kíli’s forearm. “Do it. Please.”

Kíli takes himself in hand, stroking a few times to make himself slippery for easier entry. Then, holding his breath against the tight heat, he presses forward in gentle increments until Ori’s arse is flush against Kíli’s hipbones. He’s so close to the edge he has to stop and breathe into Ori’s nape, arm tight around his waist.

There is a gentle touch on his arm, stroking down to his wrist. Ori turns his head, looking back over his shoulder, and Kíli hides his face. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he whispers back. He turns his wrist, and their fingers lace together. With a sigh of abandon, Kíli drags out and presses forward again, beginning to build a rhythm. Ori’s hand in his is tight and comforting. He doesn’t have to think, or fret, or make sure his technique is perfect – he just rocks into Ori’s welcoming body, stubble pushing into his sweaty nape as their pace quickens.

“Wait!” Ori chokes out suddenly.

Kíli’s hips stutter to a stop, his stomach plummeting. “What is it?”

Ori wriggles free and turns, watched by an amused Fíli, and clambers on top of Kíli to straddle his hips. He is still flushed red from exertion and residual embarrassment – Kíli finds it quite fetching, not that he’ll ever say so – but there is a new kind of confidence in his eyes. He wipes the sweat from his brow with his forearm and leans down, chasing Kíli’s attempted retreat into the pillow.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, resting his forehead lightly on Kíli’s. They share the same air, the same breath, the same sweat, and Kíli grips Ori’s thighs to keep grounded.

“What is?” He is mortified to hear his own voice shake. At his side, Fíli rests a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Ori smiles with boyish delight and kisses him gently, so gently as he rises and fits them together again, more intimate than Kíli fears he can withstand. “You.”

 _He knows that I am in love with him_ , Kíli thinks, but the thought is not wild and panicked. He snags Ori’s lower lip with his teeth, exhilaration biting his chest, and he pushes up into Ori’s body with a grunt of satisfaction. Orgasm is hovering on the horizon. “Just don’t… ahhh… tell Fíli. He’ll never let me live it down.”

Fíli sniggers, and Ori reaches out to take the elder brother’s hand, bringing it to his cock. Ori winks. “I won’t breathe a word.” His mischievous expression only lingers for a few moments before being wiped away in the ecstasy of completion.

Kíli grips him hard, bucking up into his body until he, too, finds release. He pulls Ori to him, cradling him close, and Ori’s cheek presses willingly against his chest as he turns to look at Fíli. “You haven’t come yet.”

Fíli shrugs easily. “This wasn’t for me, really.” He glances at his brother. “I’m glad to have been of service.”

“Of service?” Ori demands, tart even in the aftermath of orgasm. “And are you content with that?”

“I don’t wish to intrude,” Fíli murmurs, and his stomach muscles tighten in preparation to rise.

“Don’t be a prat,” Kíli orders him as Ori tumbles back onto the mattress. “You were instrumental.”

Fíli makes a token protest, but between them, Ori and Kíli pin him to the mattress and cover him in kisses until he’s wriggling and laughing, warm and flushed with arousal. Feeling only a small twinge of uncertainty, Kíli bends to kiss his mouth while Ori sets to below. Fíli’s eyes when he pulls away are wide and blue.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kíli mutters, nuzzling the side of his face until Fíli tips his chin up, letting his brother lick at his throat. “This is a one time deal.”

“I’ll take it.” Fíli laughs shakily and tangles his fingers into his brother’s hair, pulling him back to his mouth. Kissing his own brother is strange, but not entire unwelcome. Fíli is sloppy and desperate with his tongue, and the gentle brush of his mustache is softer than Ori’s short prickle. The two braids at either side tickle Kíli’s jaw. He grips his brother’s chin to kiss him harder, and he can feel the slant of Fíli’s cry under his lips as his brother tenses and spills over into Ori’s mouth.

With a slightly befuddled expression, Ori wipes his mouth and clambers up, letting himself be pulled amicably between the two brothers. He kisses them both thoroughly – tasting his brother’s seed in another’s mouth is not something Kíli ever thought he’d be doing – and collapses against the pillows.

“I’m knackered,” he sighs, stretching out until his back snaps cheerfully. Fíli grunts in agreement and shifts, turning to drape his arm over Ori’s belly and lay his hand on Kíli’s side. His little brother smiles sleepily, already beginning to drift off.

“Sleep well,” he says, mumbling into the dim room. Fíli’s hand tightens over his hip, and then he is asleep. 

The others do not fall into slumber so quickly. Ori, for one, still has question. His head turns on the pillow, and he meets Fíli’s eyes. “Why did you do this?”

“For him, of course,” Fíli whispers back. “He was too bloody shy to say anything himself.”

“So you – you’re not… I mean…”

“Spit it out,” Fíli tells him mildly, cheeks dimpling.

Ori takes a breath and lets it all out in a rush. “You’re not lovers?”

“No.” Fíli’s blue eyes flit over to where his brother lays unconscious. “Not before tonight.”

There is a long moment of quiet. Kíli’s chest rises and falls shallowly with rhythmic sleep-breaths, and Ori draws aimless patters on Fíli’s bicep as he considers this. Eventually he looks up again. Fíli’s eyes are still on his brother. “You love him.”

Fíli’s throat moves as he swallows. “Of course I do. He’s my brother.”

“You know what I mean,” Ori tells him, almost stern. “Why have you not told him?”

“Dwarves only love once.” Fíli goes quiet again, as if that makes it final, but a light pinch from Ori spurs him on. “He has had several lovers now and then, but it was never permanent. I did not think he wished to have a mate, and I was content with this, for he was the only mate I could ever see myself keeping. That is what I thought this time,” he admits, finally looking to Ori with an expression of apology. “That you were just another quick obsession, easily rid of. But he… persisted.”

“And you thought,” Ori whispered, “that if he lay with me, the attraction would fade.”

Fíli nods reluctantly, his braids scraping against the pillow. “Does that make me wicked?”

“Don’t talk nonsense.” Ori’s fingers twiddle with the locks of hair spilling over Fíli’s shoulder. “Perhaps you have not found the right one, yet.”

“Perhaps.” Fíli’s answering smile is tinged with old sadness. “But if not, his happiness is my own. And if he has found happiness with you, than I will find it in me to rejoice with him.”

Ori cannot speak for Kíli, but knows that in spite of the deep love he has for the younger brother, he can open his jealous heart enough to give the elder peace. “You will always be welcome in our chambers,” he says, trembling with the very undwarfish statement.

Fíli nods but says nothing, smoothing the hair back from Ori’s forehead. “Go to sleep now.”

“Will you still be here in the morning?” Ori breathes as he snuggles back against Kíli’s warm body.

“Aye.” Fíli smiles faintly and kisses Ori’s forehead, arm tightening around him. “I could not be anywhere else.”


End file.
